


a cosmic perspective (alt: how to classify hot astronomers, among other things)

by tvxq



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: College AU, M/M, a lot of looking at stars, and boys being idiots, astronomy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvxq/pseuds/tvxq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zitao’s got it (nearly) all figured out. sehun is (probably) a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a cosmic perspective (alt: how to classify hot astronomers, among other things)

**Author's Note:**

> • no warnings just that theres a lot of stars in this fic i just love the stars and also sehun

zitao does not like astronomy class. but extra credit is a thing and filling course requirements is another and because he’d transferred to a seoul university from bejing, the expectation that he’d carry on the same amount of subject fills had been a condition of the university transfer.

thus, design technology major huang zitao had ended up in professor kim’s introduction to astronomy and selective astrophysics, sitting in the back row of every single class and paying yifan off with moschino couture to help him with the homework.

they’re covering the details of interplanetary motion right now, and zitao thinks he can’t really look at another math equation for fear of the negative impact to his person.

while zitao respects whoever kepler is, their work and their contributions to astronomy at large, this is something he can’t be bothered about.

_until._

“so, for your final assessment, if you’d read the syllabus, you’d know that the majority of your pass mark will come from the group project, due in eight weeks for the end of the term.”

 _shitshitshit._ zitao has never spoken one word to another student in the class. lu han says it’s because zitao considers himself ‘too elite’ and he’s never met another student with a brand label worth upwards of several million won, but that’s only true by about seventy percent. zitao does not like astronomy class.

there’s another kid on the back back row. he doesn’t look like he pays attention either, always in the very corner of the lecture hall and always there when zitao enters the classroom. today he’s wearing a snapback, one of the trendy ones with the piercings in the cap, and a big stüssy hoodie that covers his head entirely. jeans ripped at the knee - everything stark black. they’ve made eye contact a few times, and wave at other another occasionally when one chooses to fall asleep.

it’s an unspoken friendship. of sorts. zitao would like to consider them acquaintances, but, hell - he doesn’t even know this kid’s name. he breathes in, then out, and then the lecturer is talking again.

“you have until friday to come to my office with your group of a minimum two people, with a clear proposal as to what you want to research. have fun. dismissed.” he says, and there’s more chatter then usual.

zitao feels kinda like dying. he slumps down in his chair and thinks about sending a text to lu han to help him move to rome, or something, but zitao finds himself unable to comment upon how simply drained he is. defeated. he slumps down, lower in his seat, eyes screwed closed and _‘i want, something close to death but not so finite. comatose. or something’._

until.

a long elegant finger, pressed against his shoulder, and zitao creaks open an eye and it’s back row guy, his hoodie pushed down now, snapback the wrong way around, letting quietly silver hair tumble down a narrow face. he doesn’t look mad - just unhappy, and zitao goes to ask what, exactly he wants, when he shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets and huffs.

“so, you wanna work together?”

 

✧

 

back row guy’s name is oh sehun and zitao thinks he could pass a model, if he didn’t dress so unflatteringly. despite, there’s something charmingly charming about his barely-there pout and half-sweater-paws and his scuffed up converse that would usually, repel a ‘high-class citizen’ like zitao.

but, zitao’s appreciation for aesthetics will now extend to the campus cafe - he’d helped design the brand identity when the shop first opened, a laneway store called haze. one of yixing’s dance friends runs it, and although zitao doesn’t enjoy coffee, it’s comfortable enough.

sehun seems well acquainted with the place, when zitao wanders in to find him seated by the window, throwing back spit-fire banter with one of the waiters, laughing, only to sit up a little straighter as he catches zitao watching him in.

“you can sit.” sehun says, shuffling his shoulders like he was something mixed between insecure and tired. “you want coffee?” he asks, then, just as zitao settles into the cute sofa.

he waves a hand. “nah, i’m good.”

sehun nods, like he approves, and then he smiles, kinda. zitao doesn’t think he smiles very often, the same thin line of his lips a constant. the ambience in the cafe is more on the dark side, but that’s what they’d been going for. a moody little cafe. it suits sehun, certainly.

“i know you don’t really like astronomy,” sehun says, “you’re a design major, right?”

he doesn’t ask how sehun knows this, just bites his lip and nods. “yeah. i’m only really in astro because of the pass requirements for my major.”

sehun nods again, a little disappointed, and zitao wonders if he’d rather not speak at all. he has a lisp that carries when he talks, and it’s cute, in a sehun-ish way. zitao decides he likes him.

“no offence, i mean-“ zitao says, just in case, and sehun looks amused, for a second.

“none taken. honestly. physics isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

zitao feels kinda bad, because still, zitao’s seen sehun at the back of the lecture hall with his beautiful exhaustive notes and he sleeps during class, yeah, but he’s smooth sailing with a 98 percent pass for last term’s finals.

“i’m just not that good with math, and stuff.” he says sheepishly, and sehun smiles, finally, a rare, quiet smile. he tries to hold onto it, here, barely strangers in the moody little campus cafe with the smell of coffee beans heavy in zitao’s nostrils.

“so you just wanna pass? i mean i’m chill with what we do. i can do most of the math-ish stuff and you’d just have to pop up onto the rooftop for a few nights to stare at stars and whatever. it’s chill.”

it’s chill. zitao is chill. 100% zen.

“you’re kinda my lifesaver, you know that?” zitao breathes easy, because sehun is smart and zitao doesn’t quite have to worry about missing credits or anything because sehun could probably write up a better report then zitao with his eyes closed.

“it’s no biggie.” sehun says, shrugging, ethereally laid back, and zitao lowkey wants to cry in relief. maybe astro won’t suck ass after all.

 

✧

 

“yo yo,” lu han says, to yifan, zitao and yixing’s shared dorm, wandering through the door - unannounced, yet again. “saw my boy zitao with a hot-ass dude at haze this morning.”

zitao wrinkles his nose, not really listening at all. he does make a mental note - sehun is hot. “you make haze sound like a nightclub. it’s a cafe.”  
“pfft, whatever.” then lu han’s sat down on yixing’s bed, where he resides for a good majority of the time. yixing, already on his own bed, sighs, and shuffles over. purple haired lu han looks out of place in their sea of bleached blondes and yixing’s perpetually dark hair. zitao wonders what colour lu han will try next.

“i didn’t know you were seeing somebody.” yixing says, softly, to zitao, who’s not even paying attention. he’s not texting sehun - at all, certainly not after they’d parted ways earlier that morning with sehun, last minute asking for zitao’s kkt id, and zitao, pleasantly infatuated, handing it over. he grins at his phone - not at all at the stupidly funny texts sehun sends, and looks up.

“huh?” zitao says.

“see ge, he’s texting his new beau.” lu han waves his fingers dismissively. “this is going on the internet.”

“your twenty thousand weibo followers do not need to know about taozi’s love life.” yixing chides, and zitao resists the urge to throw a pillow at lu han’s head. he’ll get it one day, he will.

“he’s my partner for an astronomy project, lu-ge. i’m not dating anybody.”

lu han waggles his eyebrows. “you gonna practice some _biology_ with him?”

zitao pretends to gag while yifan looks up from his desk, silent thus far. “lu han, biology and astronomy are not even mutually exclusive.” he claims, and lu han just laughs.

“but zitao and his new boy are—“

zitao does not throw a pillow, but yixing jabs lu han in the sides, a silent ‘ _please shut up or you won’t get head for a year_ ’ and that is that.

 

✧

 

astro class is different, after that. good different. zitao wonders, vaguely, if sehun will still hang alone in the corner, and their partnership will be forced and awkward and disgusting and nothing like the beautiful science collaboration zitao dreamed it would be.

the class the next day, though, the professor leaves to them to begin logging in the equipment they’ll need for their projects, and while much of the work will be extracurricular, professor kim is not, as most students would title ‘a dick’ and gives them the full three hours for ‘collaboration time’.

sehun comes back from booking in their telescope use and grabbing a spare key for the rooftop, and zitao doesn’t know if it’s appropriate, but, he points to his notebook and says.

“did you know if you join auriga up with taurus it looks like a dick.” he sniggers, turning the star chart around and sehun looks momentarily in the space between going back and requesting another partner, and then something else altogether.

until.

he laughs too, loudly, and sehun squeezes into the seat beside zitao, their thighs pressed against one another, because despite appearances, sehun is a prickly cactus that somehow manages to destroy every skinship boundary known to man. and zitao’s only met him twice.

“wait-wait,” he says, bringing his own yellow sharpie over from his desk and suddenly they’re sitting together, giggling about stardicks, because constellations are a fallacy because lines don’t exist in space and stars are just huge explosions millions of miles away and sehun’s laugh sounds something like what zitao thinks happiness should sound like. it’s awfully jarring. a good day.

 

✧

 

zitao has no reason to suspect that sehun is anything less then oh sehun. ridiculously smart, tall, hot, wears only black and drinks either milk boba or black coffee with no in-between.

they sit next to one another during astro, text more then what is probably socially expectable for a purely ‘academic’ based relationship. it’s just.

zitao sees sehun either in class, in the campus cafe, holed up in the corner of the library or not at all. and there’s the fact that sehun barely texts during the day, that same resting-bitchface-dead-to-the-world aesthetic that nobody could pull off quite so well.

it’s… _weird._

two weeks into their shared project, and they’ve talked about space maybe once. when sehun had called zitao, apologising for the suddenness but just because zitao is easy to talk to, at eleven pm from the campus rooftop, and the single remark that the stars looked nice like this. everything else is just conversation.

just slow, easy communication. sehun doesn’t text back too quickly but manages to catch zitao’s attention for most of the day. he sends zitao silly photos of his roommate after they exchange snapchats and in return zitao finds himself with lu han’s dog filter selfies flying their way toward him.

weird is the wrong word. but. it’s weird.

“i don’t see the problem.” lu han says, head on yixing’s thigh, taking up more space then the bed owner himself. lu han doesn’t even live here.

“it’s weird.” zitao says, for the thousandth time.

“i dont know what you want. is he too nice? too hot? too much ass? what’s the deal bro?”  
“don’t call me ‘bro’, lu-ge.” zitao glares. “call yixing-ge bro, call yifan-ge bro. not me. ugh. ‘bro’.”

lu han looks sufficiently destroyed. “i don’t know why we’re friends.” he says, folding his arms, and zitao leans his head back against his desk chair, despairing.

“maybe he’s a vampire.” yixing says.

lu han looks up at him, blinking.

even yifan turns around, glasses tipping; again.

zitao doesn’t even exhale.

“what?”

“a vampire.”

yixing, who studies philosophy and gives out weed because it’s ‘a gift’ and doesn’t chase up jongdae when he manages to screw up yixing’s laptop with viruses from torrent websites, again. yixing, who attends poetry talks for the ‘mood’ and has been complaining about the same philosophy paper for three months now.

yixing shrugs.

“vampires are everywhere dude. you never know. lu-ge, hop up.” yixing sighs, patting lu han on the knee. he shuffles over and yixing slides off of his bed like he’s had enough of the ‘atmosphere’ and he reaches down for his guitar.

lu han, sufficiently put out, pouts and stares up at the ceiling.

“i’m gonna go talk to the t.a about my philosophy assignment.” yixing says, “later.” and then he’s gone and yifan turns back around to his desk, legs too big to fit back underneath it.

“what’s the guitar for?” he asks, and lu han, shrugs.

“who knows. he’s probably going to hand out pot to the new pledges at beta tao.”

high frat boys or no, zitao’s not really listening; he’s still stuck on vampire.

 

✧

 

yixing is stupid. he’s high at least seventy percent of the time. sehun is _not_ a vampire.

it’s a fusion restaurant, today. zitao had picked it out himself, par his uncanny ability to know all the best places to eat in downtown seoul. just past mapo, the korean-italian cafe sits behind a locksmith in one of the smaller alleyways and when they’d walked there from the subway, sehun had wondered if zitao was leading him off to kill him, cackling.

zitao wishes he could rule out the vampire theory. but really.

“garlic?” sehun says, sounding absolutely petrified. “dude, no.”

zitao raises a single eyebrow, but it’s with great courtesy does he slide the basket of garlic bread off of their table and onto the empty one beside theirs.

blinking, zitao stares at sehun for a few seconds, and tries to remember if he’d started to sparkle when they’d walked up from the station. but sehun’s got his snapback on again, and another too-big supreme hoodie, jeans torn in more then seven places. all black.

it’s disarming, kinda, but sehun doesn’t really look, like a vampire. what do vampires even look like? lu han claims it’s bad grammar to end a sentence with a question mark but, zitao has several questions.

“sorry, garlic bread is detrimental to my health and wellbeing.” sehun apologises, recovering from his garlic-induced-heart attack, and the smile zitao sends his way is almost automatic.

“it’s chill. there’s no garlic in the dukbokki pasta, i think.” zitao says, eyeing the spagetti bolognaise being given to the couple two tables down. he yells at his stomach not to growl, even though all those refined carbs look so so sickeningly good.

sehun nods, lips pursed, and he looks content enough.

“thanks.” he says, and zitao’s already reaching for his phone. attempting something close to nonchalance, sehun’s scanning through the menu on their table and zitao’s glancing down at the space grey iphone on his lap. it’s not a very efficient plan of attack but it works nonetheless.

to: yixingie-ge  
_yo what do vampires look like????????_

yixing takes his sweet time to reply, and sehun takes his sweet time staring at pictures of the dukbokki pasta. it’s a convenient pause, in zitao’s life.

from: yixingie-ge  
_tall. pale. dark clothes. they r nice tho_

to: yixingie-ge  
_if i snapchat a photo of him to u can u do a professional analysis and tell me whether he’s a vampire_

from: yixingie-ge  
_ye cool w/e_

this is the hard part. it’s easy enough to be suss on a phone, but taking a full-bodied snapchat of sehun is going to be hard.

until.

sehun’s phone rings, and it’s some insane japanese death metal song - something with far too many drums and the obvious proof that the guitarist was probably dead, now, after having to record a solo that intense.

zitao nearly falls off of his chair. sehun, looking something resembling a radish, opens his mouth to explain, and hides half of his face behind the menu.

“my roommate set the ringtone.” he says weakly, and then reaches forward to pick it up. “it’s him - sorry.” sehun says, again, weakly, and despite the japanese death metal and the complete and utter embarrassment painted all over his face, sehun is cute. zitao tries not to smile.

sehun spins in his chair, picking up the phone to hiss into the receiver, and it’s the few moments of - “jongin i fucking swear to god-“ that allow zitao to take a carefully crafted snapchat of sehun’s profile and send it off to yaweedboizhang.

looking back up, zitao bites his lip, stifling something akin to amusement as sehun attempts to remain calm while seemingly ranting to jongin over the phone. chewing on his cheek now, zitao hides a grin as sehun turns back around to meet his eyes in what seems to be stark embarrassment. it looks cute on sehun. his ears are red.

zitao’s phone buzzes in his hand, but he chooses to skilfully ignore yixing’s response. vampire analysis can always wait. he has all day.

“i’m sorry.” sehun says, stuffing his phone away after that. he’s pouting, and apologetic doesn’t look good on him. shrugging sehun is better, zitao thinks dimly, before he beams over at sehun.

“it’s no problem,” he assures. sehun’s ears are still red, “roommates are a pain.”

“tell me about it,” sehun says, rolling his eyes. shrugging sehun is back. it’s a welcome adjustment, because shrugging sehun is so chill - no real need for zitao to tuck in his shirt because sehun’s eyes light up when somebody mentions the hubble space telescope. shrugging sehun is preferable. “even one’s a handful.”

zitao thinks about the two he has, and the unofficial third, because nobody really knows where lu han came from, or goes, after he leaves. it’s a harrowing thought. lu han is a walking mess.

“it’s a hard life,” he says agreeably, and sehun nods, still biting his lips with sharp, sharp teeth. “you wanna order now?”

“yeah,” sehun laughs, briefly, like it’s impossible not to, and everything’s kind of ridiculous. “yeah.” he says.

 

✧

 

“you didn’t get my texts?” yixing asks, when zitao wanders back through the door. it’s late, nearly half five when he and sehun had parted ways at the station - tangled up in conversation that was somewhat relative to their astronomy project, which came as a surprise. sehun’s enthusiastic google sky explorations and a zitao who could only sit back, a little out of depth, but content enough to sneak looks at sehun’s wide eyes and tiny smile when he wasn’t looking.

“forgot.” zitao says, shrugging. maybe he’s becoming sehun. he certainly feels more laid back. it’s easier just to talk about faraway things like binary star systems and nuclear explosions millions and millions of miles away.

yixing looks him over with a customary silent glance, and that half-there look of bare disappointment he has no right to give - at least zitao hands in his philosophy assignments on time.

“i was right, as per usual.” yixing hums, and he’s loose legged on his own messy bed, lu han’s socks hanging off of the edge. yifan is at a physics lecture and lu han is nowhere to be seen. a good day.

“about?” zitao asks, a little fazed, as he places his givenchy backpack down by his side of the wardrobe, yifan’s side is full of obscure saint laurent and zitao’s side is more of 80% of the space - yixing doesn’t even get wardrobe space; he’s been wearing the same ‘keep one rolled’ shirt since freshman years.

“your vampire friend.” yixing shrugs, like it’s completely normal and zitao spins around, eyes slightly widened in his sockets.

“sehun?” he asks, as if there was another option, because ‘ _ew please no garlic_ ’ and ‘ _let’s never go in the sun again_ ’ and all black study with knee-ripped jeans and big big big hoodies is probably what yixing is referring to. probably.

zitao can never, _ever_ , be too cautious.

“that’s the one,” yixing confidently finger guns. less confidently, then, “wait? is that the one? the tall blonde one with the nice ass?”

zitao’s ears are going red as he closes the wardrobe door, he can see them in the mirror. stupid blood vessels widening. stupid. betrayed. it’s an awfully sehun look.

“yeah,” he grits out. “sehun.”

yixing looks satisfied. “yeah well, total vamp. has the hair and everything.”

“are you sure?” zitao says, the mirror out of view and out of mind. he slumps down at his desk, spinning in the office chair, still facing yixing.

“confident.”

vampires aren’t even real, zitao tells himself. “vampires aren’t even real, ge,” he says, to yixing. “are you sure you haven’t been eating the brownies that jongdae gives you, i’ve told you, dude that’s not kale-“

“don’t bully jongdae, he’s a good kid.” yixing defends, dimple appearing with his frown and everything. his skin isn’t that flushed, so zitao supposes he’s not high - but still. vampires don’t exist.

“and vampires do exist, your friend is one. they’re nice though, i promise.”

“yixing-ge-“ zitao sighs, a million rational excuses lined up.

until.

lu han and yifan, the smaller lavender haired man launching through the doorway.

“duizhang bought meat!” lu han yells, and yifan’s too tall to fit through the door, again. so much for a quiet night with no interruptions and strictly vampire-assessment only. also, the astro project zitao is barely contributing to.

maybe that.

yifan pushes his glasses up, struggling with the grocery bags as he trudges through the door, and lu han has already launched himself onto yixing’s lap happily.

“you don’t even live here.” zitao complains, leaning over his desk in a whine. lu han throws one of his socks and it lands in the trash. a victorious smirk on zitao’s part has him throwing another.

“hey, no bullying. both of you. zitao has a vampire problem.”

yifan looks like he’s given up, by now.

“i guess i’ll cook the meat.” he announces, but nobody is really listening, even as he trudges over to grab the grill from underneath yixing’s keyboard box.

“the hot one? is this still a theory?” lu han asks, pouting. yixing nods sagely.

“taozi sent snapchats. i discussed with the other campus vampire experts. there was no doubt.”zitao wants to die. vampire experts? yixing needs to lie down, for just five minutes.

“snapchats?!” lu han exclaims, “show me what the hell, i gotta get me a look at that ass again.” despite being in his boyfriend’s lap, lu han, is notoriously shameless. yixing does not look fazed.

zitao, defending sehun’s honour, is, marching up to snatch the phone straight out of yixing’s hands before he can even open his camera roll.

“no objectifying sehun.” he says sternly, eying lu han with great emphasis. “i need him to pass astronomy.”

“ _ah_ ,” lu han says, not really all too intimidated by zitao’s angry-eyebrow aesthetic, nor his threatening stance. it’s not his phone in zitao’s possession. yixing probably has plenty of the disposable things lying around, for possible drug deal purposes. he scowls. “the biology project.” lu han’s eyebrows waggle, and zitao promises to shave them off.

“astrophysics is in no way related to biology in any way shape or form-“ yifan speaks up, but is quickly drowned out by the fact that nobody is listening or more likely that nobody really cares.

“leave sehun alone.” zitao whines, returning to sit in his chair, tossing lu han’s phone down onto the bed, just as yixing says, “leave zitao’s vampire friend alone.”

his head hits the desk again on the descent; he has given up.

 

✧

 

if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. zitao is going to get to the bottom of this. sehun is (not) a vampire (probably). he has a list, now, of pros and cons - it’s fairly organised, and he wishes he had this much motivation to complete class work compared to his will to conclude his own personal grievances related to hot boys with bleached blonde hair and sharp teeth.

the list sits underneath his ‘list of shit 2 buy’ compilation on the notes app of his iphone and it’s a very thorough, well thought out presentation of evidence. it’s the fourth time that he and sehun have had coffee since their astronomy project began, this time it’s a bubble tea parlour and sehun’s showing zitao the major stars on google sky, a distractingly (pale) arm stretched.

the list concludes as follows.

sehun is a vampire: a conclusive and thorough insight into vaguely hot and too smart sophomore oh sehun and his vampiric and non vampiric traits, written and composed by huang “god” zitao.

**figure 1. ↓**  
_sehun wears all black all the time_  
_he hates (dies when he comes into contact with) garlic_  
_has never been seen in a mirror (yet)_  
_probably watches american football_  
_‘disagrees’ with the sun_  
_likes night time_  
_is an aries_  
_plays call of duty???_  
_sharp teeth_  
_has a death metal ringtone_

 **figure 2. ↓**  
_vampires straight up do not exist._

his study is coming along brilliantly. zitao’s got it ( _nearly_ ) all figured out. sehun is ( _probably_ ) a vampire.

 

✧

 

exhibit a. it’s not like sehun doesn’t like the sun. only, he doesn’t.

hangang park, a rare warm autumn day, because winter’s creeping ever closer, and the sooner november gets, the less time zitao has to flaunt his balmain spring/summer collection. winter can stay in it’s lane, for now.

“the sun is just gross.” sehun says, because they’re sitting under a tree and he’s trying to explain tidal radius as a whole to zitao. their project topic is something along the lines of ‘The Core And Tidal Radius Of A Globular Cluster In The Milky Way’ and zitao doesn’t even know the chemical composition of water, (what does h2o stand for again?) let alone what space is. he deserves a gold star for trying.

“can’t you like,” zitao says, trying to ascertain sehun’s vampire percentage. would it be considered impolite to ask him on a scale of one to edward cullen, how vampire are you? maybe. “see it’s scientific merit?”

“the sun can suck a dick.” sehun says, and he says the word ‘sun’ like people say liberals. zitao ignores the way he says dick for the simple purpose of attempting to overcome his pseudo admiration for sehun’s love of the stars and zitao’s unbelievable attraction toward him, because, lu han be damned, sehun has an ass.

“fair enough.” zitao shrugs, because he’s not really that bothered. sehun seems to be not vampiric enough that the sun burns him, but then again, they’re sitting under the thickest tree sehun could find and he’s wearing four layers of stüssy black. who knows.

 

✧

 

exhibit b.

sehun’s covered in piercings when they meet in astro next, siding into the seat beside him. two earrings in his left earlobe, one helix. his right ear is scattered with small little rings too, all up the side of his ear. zitao, friends with yifan, who looks nothing like the science major he is, wanders around with an entire face full of metal.

he swallows when sehun hikes his laptop onto to the desk, a sudden rush of warmth against his cheeks and he thinks damnit, not again.

“your earrings are pretty.” he mumbles, and sehun looks up like a deer caught in the headlights. big bright eyes, unusually wide. his hood isn’t up today, but there’s a black cap over his hair, ‘tired’ written on the front in loopy roman lettering.

“thanks.” sehun says, burying a smile, and zitao looks straight ahead, aware, vividly, of the fact that his face is bright red. sehun opens his macbook and zitao notices, briefly, his fingers come up to play with the ring on his left lobe.

zitao, biting his lip. “where’d you get them?” he wonders, and sehun blinks before trying to think.

“there’s a platinum dealer in the yeuido flea market. some there.” he waves a hand, “here and there.”

“that’s cool.” zitao says, and it is. sehun sends him a little grin before ducking his head back to his textbook, and the lecture at hand. platinum, zitao thinks for a moment.

he brings up his phone.

to: yixingie-ge  
_hey (・д・;;) r vampires allergic 2 silver or smth????_

from: yixingie-ge  
_ye man_

ah _shit._

 

✧

 

two days later, zitao wanders home from his product design prac and there’s a pillow fort in the middle of their dorm room just as zitao opens the door. his feet nearly collide with it, before he reminds himself that he lives with one zhang yixing and this is probably normal. zitao inhales.

“you were right.” he concedes, to the pillow fort. yixing makes a noise of half approval.

“i often am.” he says, and zitao cannot see the nearly-smug expression on his stupid changsha face. zitao pulls his backpack up onto his desk, full of stupid astronomy books and stupid studying and zitao wouldn’t be in this mess if putting a smile on stupid vampire oh sehun’s face wasn’t so goddamn gratifying.

“wait,” yixing says, still in the middle of his pillow fort, away from zitao’s skills of observation, and the younger boy huffs and falls down into his desk chair, careful not to disrupt the natural equilibrium of the sacred man-fort. “what was i right about again?”

zitao sighs, pulling his the physical universe! introduction to astronomy textbook up out of his backpack and setting it down on the desk with an audible thump. he doesn’t enjoy homework, least of all homework related to stupid gaseous balls millions of lightyears away.

“sehun. he’s a vampire. i’m like, eighty percent sure.”

“i told you so.” yixing says, but he doesn’t mean it, like lu han would, or the kind of smugness that comes with yifan’s 160iq. he wonders, briefly about sehun’s iq and the fact that he’s smarter then yifan in tiny, tiny ways, and zitao feels entirely all too dissatisfied with the fact that yixing isn’t rubbing it in.

he opens the textbook, and his phone buzzes.

sehunnie ❀, kakao says, and zitao hates the small little burst of ‘oh this is good’ because sehun’s a vampire (probably). maybe. (definitely). he’ll do a venn diagram, or something.

from: sehunnie ❀  
_if u read up on globular clusters we can go to the rooftop and start recording ascension and stuff_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_u free tmr?_

to: sehunnie ❀  
_(/^▽^)/ sounds good!!!_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_cool, meet @ th astro building @ 9ish???_

to: sehunnie ❀  
_(ノ≧∀≦)ノ*:・゚✧ okei_

and then, because he’s a brat, and craves mainly validation, affection and (sehun’s) love.

to: sehunnie ❀  
_aigoo this stuff is so hard (・д・;;)_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_do u want help??? i’m free rn_

zitao tries to justify this by means of ‘obtaining more information regarding sehun’s vampiric origin’ but he, deep down, knows, that sehun is the kind of ugly-cute that makes zitao want to cry majority of the time and he’s really hot when he talks about science. it’s a matter of relativity.

to: sehunnie ❀  
_really???? that would be so good ;;;;;-; i’m sorry i’m such a bother!!!_

because he’s a suck-up little shit and sehun’s cute when he’s trying to reassure zitao that ‘ _he’s not stupid, no, no you’re not, hey, don’t cry, not everybody understands newton right away!_ '

from: sehunnie ❀  
_ur not a bother_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_i like teaching u_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_promise_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_the boba place in half an hour?_

to: sehunnie ❀  
_ur my savior ヽ(〃・ω・)ノ_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_:-)_

zitao, tucking his phone into his jeans, is already grinning.

“i’m going out, ge.” he tells the pillow fort, stuffing his textbook back into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulders. zitao can’t find cause to wipe the grin off of his face for the rest of the day. it’s _pathetic._

 

✧

 

“this is it.” sehun says, and it’s his space-voice, the faraway kind of looseness that has zitao feeling kind like sandra bullock in that one movie, because friday night is yifan’s space movie night and he hadn’t been able to lie his way out of it for the third consecutive time. sehun takes the time to blink, and zitao wants to edge a little closer, but then again they’re ‘academic acquaintances’ and that’s pretty much it. except sehun is really, really hot.

their star-watching nest for the night is the rooftop of the science wing of snu, the light pollution makes it hard to catch majority of the stars with the naked eye, but it’s a clear day, and zitao has faith in the monstrosity of a telescope that sehun pats with a fond hand.

a picnic blanket, sehun’s laptop, too many textbooks and a throw pillow. zitao takes of his backpack and sets it down by the corner of the rooftop.

“wow.” he says, kinda breathless, because the view is nothing less then spectacular and he’s not likely to forget the way sehun’s eyelashes look, dipped against the moonlight. “wow.” he says again, and then he remembers himself, when sehun kinda grins at him, teasing, from the side of his mouth.

“i brought snacks.” he blurts, as sehun sits back down, cross legged underneath the eyepiece of the telescope, right on top of the throw cushion.

sehun blinks twice at him, cautious, before zitao begins to empty his bag. he’s glad there’s minimal light on the seoul national university rooftop at nine at night, because he’s pretty sure his ears are red in muted embarrassment.

“i didn’t know what to get,” he explains, rubbing the back of his neck briefly, before beginning to pull snack packets out of his backpack. “so i kinda got everything. chapsal yakgwa, hobak monaka, yanggaeng, dry ramen, saeoo snek - yeah, kinda, everything.”

the look on sehun’s face is adorable.

“you’re _insane_.” he says, staring down at the ten or so packets of obscure korean snacks zitao had literally tossed in his cart at the nearest lotte mart before his station. “i love it.” sehun grins, reaching for the saeoo snek and popping the bag open, loudly.

“you didn’t have to,” he says, through mouthfuls of shrimp crackers, and zitao still thinks he’s adorable.

he shrugs in response to that, because yeah he kinda did, he's not really contributing to this project at all, pulling the rest of his things out of his bag - a blanket, a spare pillow, his laptop, the only book he owns on star clusters, his astro lecture book, the pages filled with no real notes and strange doodles he and sehun do, mainly because sehun is a sophomore taking a junior class but is too smart for the thing anyway and zitao just hates astronomy.

hate is a strong word. he settles down by the telescope, where sehun’s fiddling with things, and their knees brush. sehun does not look fazed, instead, shuffles a little closer. everything he does is so subtle and inconspicuous that zitao knows that he’s doing them, of course but the sucky thing is that he cannot call sehun out at all in regards to ‘ _hey you keep touching me right and i have no problem with that, pretty much negative problems but like, i need to know if you’re a blood sucking carnivore or if i’m reading too much into things._ ’ yeah. probably not.

hate is a strong word. sehun has freckles zitao never even noticed. he mildly dislikes astronomy class.

“so,” he says, tugging his blanket up, wrapping it around his shoulders just as sehun seems satisfied with the specs of their telescope. “what’s the plan?"

“well...after standard bias subtraction and flat fielding of the observed fields, we just need to find all stars visible on the frames. then, find the star number density and plot it as a function of radius. when we compare these against models, it leads to the derivation of the tidal radius and concentration parameter of the cluster.” sehun says, all in one mouthful, and then he fucking grins because he’s such a fucking nerd and zitao is utterly gone, for him.

“in english.” he says, swallowing, battering his eyelashes in an attempt to dissuade sehun from his stupidity.

sehun blinks, smiling briefly. “sorry. just uh, look at the stars? i guess.” he shuffles over, a bit, and it’s an obvious invitation for zitao to move closer.

“we’ll start with polaris, for you.” sehun says, and zitao’s eyes widen in excitement.

“i know that star! the north star!” he’s not totally useless. sehun laughs, but it’s not patronising, really, just all big-mouthed and head thrown back laughter, straight from the lungs.

“you’re cute.” sehun says, cryptically, “yes, the north star. well done.”

zitao’s ears are currently dressing up as tomatoes, he discovers. warmwarmwarm. sehun moves the telescope around a little, until he gestures at the eyepiece.

“here, if you look in, you should be able to see polaris.”

zitao leans closer, which, gives him a closer proximity to sehun which, is not a bad thing. sehun smells like yves saint. zitao hates that he knows that.

through the lens, the huge burning ball of gas millions of miles away, is clearly visible. polaris is a stunning star, by zitao’s standards, and he pulls back with a grin.

“woah.” he says, breathless, and sehun nods too. “yeah woah.” he grins, and then zitao shuffles a little closer to the laptop, so sehun can show him google sky and by association, the blanket comes with.

“dude _share._ ” sehun says, so goddamn blunt about everything and he’s pulling zitao’s blanket over his own broad-ass shoulders and now their shoulders are touching and their practically cuddling on the rooftop underneath the fucking stars and sehun has the nerve to begin a spiel about tidal radius and zitao realises that, he’s fucked.

 

✧

 

“what if he actually is a vampire?”

lu han is unbelieving. he wrinkles his nose, zitao can barely see it as he lowers the book he’s reading. zitao’s eyesight isn’t impeccable enough to read the title, but it’s an english book and the cover has some pseudo-modern-art look about it. “it’s a bit far-fetched. don’t you think ge?”

“i’m going to, scientifically,” zitao emphasises every syllable of the word, “get to the bottom of this. got me a hypothesaurus and everything.”

“hypothesis, zitao.” yifan, the only resident science major in their entire dorm block, corrects, wiping his glasses on his shirt before slipping them back on. there’s endless amounts of paper and numbers scattered all over his desk and zitao is far too delicate to understand the course material for advanced chemistry. “it’s called a hypothesis.”

“whatever.” zitao waves a hand, collapsing on yixing’s sofa. lu han, from his position on yixing’s double bed, snorts. it’s a contemptful sound, and zitao doesn’t care for this kind of abuse, right now. he has a hypothesis to write.

“zitao, you’re not even a science major.” lu han sighs.

zitao pulls out his phone and glares. “that doesn’t mean i can’t be a scientist.” he says, scrolling through weibo distractedly. there’s still a few hours before he has to meet sehun for coffee. to discuss their upcoming presentation for the astronomy class zitao used to dread having. now, he finds, he gets to sit next to sehun (the vampire) and play footsie under the table and try and make dick constellations out of the star charts they’d learnt to graph in the first semester. it’s enjoyable. mild dislike has turned into tolerance. zitao is a changed person.

“you just think you know what physics is because of that one time yifan-ge made you sit through three hours of interstellar.” lu han says, matter-of-factly.

zitao, about to protest, is cut off by yifan, sniggering at his desk.

“please, taozi couldn’t even see half the movie through his veil of tears let alone understand the science.”

zitao stands up, promptly offended, and tucks his phone into the back pocket of his versace jeans. he does not have the energy for this. nor should he have to endure two clapbacks at once. before yifan and lu han can highfive, zitao has already collected himself and is at the door.

“shut it, four eyes.” he says to yifan, who is still laughing, and probably and decidedly deaf to anything zitao has to say. scowling, he opens the door dramatically and heaves a sigh.

“whatever. i’m off to conduct some research.” he claims, waving his phone.

lu han snorts, again, and zitao wonders about the laws surrounding punching somebody if they really really deserve it. he wonders if they extend to homicide, and reminds himself to look for a suitable place to ditch a body on his drive to the boba parlour where sehun would be waiting for him in a few hours.

huffing, he leaves.

and then.

“have fun staring at sehun’s ass for a full two hours!” lu han calls, but zitao has already slammed the door behind himself. _yeah_ , zitao thinks, rationally. _homicide is the answer._

 

✧

 

“wow, you look tired.” sehun chirps, in lieu of a greeting, as zitao slumps down into the seat opposite him. he has his astronomy notebooks spread out across the table, a half-full= milk tea beside his laptop, and he’s wearing the same thin-rimmed circle glasses as he does when he studies in the library. they’re slipping down his nose, and zitao, despite his attitude, thinks long and hard about delicately pushing them upward. he does not, and settles for wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on the side of his jeans before he remembers that it’s disgusting and these are a limited editon pair he’d bought in kyoto prefecture.

hands on the edge of the table then. but that doesn’t exactly feel right. zitao wants to whine in defeat.

“my ge’s are bullying me.” he says, and sehun raises an eyebrow.

“ge?”

“hyung,” zitao corrects, smoothly. “hyung’s.”

sehun’s lips form an ‘ah’ sound, and he nods absently, like he knows exactly what zitao means.

“i know how that feels.” sehun says, and he’s twirling his pen without realising, and everything he does is cutely distracting. zitao’s lips are dry, and he craves taro boba. “i’m the youngest, of my friends. they call me a rude punk if i argue back.”

  
despite being thirsty, with nowhere to put his hands and the sweat, on his million won jeans, he grins. “you kinda look like a rude punk, you know.”

zitao is older then sehun, by a full year, and it’s funny to watch him roll his eyes. but then he’s grinning and his mouth is full of teeth and zitao only half stares at it to see if they’re sharp.

_research topic #2; vampires. are they capable of happiness?_

“anyway, punk,” zitao says, distracted. “let’s get this homework shit over and done with.”

then sehun’s talking about stars and zitao thinks he’s really, really, pretty like this.

(vampire or not)

 

✧

 

the first time he sees the inside of sehun’s dorm room, zitao has promised himself that the murder of one lu han is precedented and that he probably has enough money in his trust to bribe the police successfully. nobody has to know.

“sexiled?” he whines into the phone, his only possessions of merit being his backpack, his new fendi bag charm and a longboard. “you have to be kidding me ge.”  
“sorry kiddo.” lu han says, in lieu of something nice. “yifan’s off on that physics seminar and me and the boyfriend are getting some. crash at your boyfriend’s or whatever. y’know the vampire with the nice ass.”

“sehun is not my boyfriend!” zitao exclaims, exasperated. “and stop looking at his ass.” he’s halfway to the dorm, but the option of going back to possible walk in on lu han and yixing is a definitive no. zitao inhales.

“nope. also, not my problem.” lu han says, and promptly hangs up.

zitao contemplates homicide. he decides against it, rationally, and does the stupid thing.

he calls sehun.

“yo,” sehun answers on the second ring, unlike some (lu han) who never answer at all. “this tao?”

“yeah.” zitao says, throat unnaturally dry. still stuck on tao, the shortened version of his own name that he’d never let yixing start, suddenly sounds something close to perfect rolling naturally off of sehun’s tongue.

“what can i do you for?” sehun asks then, obviously amused and zitao’s already going red.

“this is gonna sound really really assholish and you’re well within your rights to say no,” he says, leaning against the window of an innisfree outlet behind him dimly. “but i’ve been sexiled with no warning and i’ve got nowhere to stay.”

he bites his lip. he really is a mess.

sehun sucks in a breath. “dude,” he says, entirely sympathetically. “that blows. roommates are dicks.”

“yeah.” he says, “my hyung’s on some physics thing so i’m alone, and it’s cold.” he whines, sehun’s dry chuckle on the other end of the line something of legend.

“you wanna crash at mine?” he wonders lightly, and zitao screws his eyes closed, praying.

“yes please?” he tries, careful, eyes still screwed shut as he sends all of his love to buddha, allah, jesus, g-dragon, any god willing to listen to his plea of ‘please please please let my hot astronomy partner let me into his home (bed) for the night’.

it works.

“that’s chill man,” sehun says, in all of his ever-present laid-backness and zitao very nearly cries. “jongin’s at a frat thing so i was home alone anyways, i was gonna actually work on out astro stuff.”

“you’re seriously a lifesaver. i’ll chuck in for takeout, i promise.” zitao says, relief coursing through his body like his heart pumps it now, and he’s never really adored oh sehun more then in that moment.

a laugh, across the line, and zitao’s hanging off of his every word. “sounds good. want me to meet you at the university station in ten?” he says, and zitao can see the subway sign from here. he prays in thanks, yet again.

“yeah.” he breathes, recovering. “yeah. again, lifesaver.” he says, and he can nearly hear sehun’s smile.

“it’s no problem. see you in ten.” sehun says, and then there’s nothing on the line but a newfound something crawling up and down zitao’s insides. something akin to sickening adoration and infatuation with the most angelic fucking sophomore zitao has ever met.

 

✧

 

“you said your hyung studies physics?” sehun wonders audibly, when he zitao get off of the train at the gyodae station. it’s just past seven, but gangnam’s already hitting rush hour. it’s cold, and zitao regrets his lack of coat.

“yeah, he’s a grad student - at some seminar about yoichiro nambu’s contributions to physics - or something.” zitao huffs, because he doesn’t really know and it’s not like he’s trying to sound disinterested, just that science is so mentally taxing in general.

he’s never seen somebody get so excited about physics, though, because sehun instantly perks up.

“that was in tokyo! i saw the mention in the grad program and i was so jealous.” sehun exclaims, ridiculously juxtaposed with shrugging, laid-back ‘it’s chill’ sehun, a sehun who zitao would have never expected to display all of his teeth in the grossest, most adorably ugly grin he’s ever seen.

“wow, you really like this space stuff.” zitao says, dumbly, because it’s kinda obvious, and sehun nods, then, subdued as they turn the corner down to a more residential area of the district.

hands in his pockets, sehun shrugs. “it’s lame, yeah, but i dunno. i like it.” he swings out his foot to collide with zitao’s, and it’s hard not to acknowledge just how comfortable everything is, with sehun involved. it’s quieter. so much nicer.

“it’s not lame.” zitao promises. “i’m just bad at understanding stuff. it’s cool.” he says, and means it.

sehun sends him a half-grin. “thanks.” and sehun’s still smiling, even after they’ve passed another block. zitao doesn’t know what to do with this, other then store sehun’s crinkled little grin away for further assessment and categorisation.

they walk in silence after that, but it’s the kind of comfortable zitao can only feel here, wandering down gangnam with sehun’s hand occasionally brushing his in a subtle advancement of their already vast skinship. it’s good. he’s cold, and sehun isn’t very warm, but it’s good.

“and we’ve arrived.” sehun announces suddenly, turning their attention toward a trendy looking building two lots down from a seven eleven. it’s prime location for those late night pocari sweat runs. genius.

“thank you, for this. seriously. i feel like the biggest dick.” he admits, while sehun keys in the door after they’ve made their way up the hall.

sehun shoots zitao a shrug over his shoulder. “it’s nothing, honest. i was just gonna play league all weekend and maybe some astro work.”

“still,” zitao stresses, when the door opens up and sehun’s life is revealed, to zitao, unfolded completely. he nearly forgets about the vampire theory. what if zitao will be sleeping in a coffin tonight - what if this is just the start of some twisted invitation and soon, zitao himself will be a vampire - what if there’s a dead body in the bath - what if-

“sorry it’s a little messy.” sehun says, hands stuffed into pockets, “jongin and i don’t really clean up that much.” he shrugs again, and zitao peeks carefully around the corner to assess the room. “bachelor pad, and all.”

it’s…normal.

there’s no dead bodies, just. normal. a sofa, coffee table, littered with manhwa, three doors, a basic kitchen. a few bowls in the sink. normal.

zitao inhales, and he steps into the room. “it’s fine.” he says, reassuring. “anything’s better then sleeping in the hallway.”

sehun laughs. “that is true, hey just make yourself at home.” he waves a vague hand and zitao sends him a grateful look.

“thanks. for like, the third time. just-“ he pauses, and sehun’s looking at him curiously, lips a little pursed, eyes tilted in amusement. zitao thinks he’s too good looking to what would be acceptable standards, but he’s long since accepted this. “-thanks.” he finishes lamely, and wishes there was a world in which he could string together a coherent sentence without dying in the process.

probably not.

“you’re welcome.” sehun says, half smiling, and plops himself down on the sofa, his xbox left on. he was probably playing it before he left to meet zitao at the station. the thought is disgustingly grounding, and the kind of domestic that makes zitao’s fingers tingle.

“we can grab takeout whenever, you wanna play halo?” sehun says conversationally as zitao sets his bag down by the door and toes off his shoes.

“halo 3?” he asks, cautious, and sehun snorts. “as if there’s any other.”

 _wow, man of my dreams_ , he thinks, and settles down right beside him as the plasma screen flickers on. their fingers brush when zitao is handed a controller and if sehun notices the subtle licking-of-lips zitao does whenever their skin makes contact, no comment is given, and zitao can keep on thirst-staring with no consequence. it’s quite the life.

 

✧

 

dinner is composed of sehun’s favourite jiggae place that delivers and zitao simply hands him the won and defers to his expertise on seoul street food. the thing about sehun is that he’s quietly excited about things that involve zitao and it’s a matter of ‘dude someday we have to go here’ in the sense of sehun envisioning a future involving zitao as something other then an astronomy partner and he realises that he’s made a friend. a good friend. close friend. friend friend.

aside from the skilfully hidden attraction and zitao’s inability to detach himself emotionally from the fact that being around sehun is comfortable in a way that existence itself has never been. seoul is such a loud city.

they waste the night playing halo and swapping between sehun yet again attempting to explain science to zitao and zitao promptly being unable to comprehend beyond ‘space is big’.

there’s jiggae containers on sehun’s bed, and the relocation into his room is a welcome change. a small, officitel sized space, sehun’s got enough room for a single bed and a small desk, littered with tiny little paper weights. there’s star charts all over his walls and zitao thinks he can see the phallic outline between taurus and auriga.

there’s a telescope by the window, but the blinds look permanently closed. a tiny window, letting in the barest minimum of moonlight.

“i can move to the sofa.” zitao mumbles, at what is probably half one, because he’s so so tired. truthfully he doesn’t think he can move to the sofa, but sleeping unannounced in somebody else’s bed is rude, apparently.

sexiling is rude, as it seems. and here we are.

sehun takes a while to gather the words. he yawns, and they’re touching, which is inevitable because sehun’s only got a single bed but there’s jeans and shirts so it’s all fine.

until.

sehun sits up, caught in a yawn. like a cat.

“nah the couch is gross. just.” he pauses, yawns again. he’s so cute like this. “sleep here.” sehun slumps back down then, head conveniently resting just above the top of zitao’s shoulder, pressed into the pillow and his entire weight is there - crushing zitao.

not that he’s heavy, because sehun is tiny - he’s a long, thin noodle that probably weighs ten pounds soaking wet. it’s more or less the skinship, and then, sehun, yawning again, then head turned to fit a little more snugly into zitao.

he hates how natural this feels.

“if this-“ sehun mumbles. “is weird, y-you can sleep on the futon.” he’s yawning, for the third time, and there’s dark circles and their astronomy project and empty coffee cups everywhere and sehun overworks himself.

“it’s not weird.” zitao swallows. because it isn’t. he could make it weird, then. by saying something like “i really want to kiss you” but he doesn’t. zitao keeps his mouth closed and sehun begins to drool against his throat, so boneless. so cold.

maybe he is a vampire. zitao pulls the covers over anyway, with one arm. sehun snuggles a bit more.

“cool.” he says. “you’re warm.”

zitao inhales. “get some sleep.” he says, and sehun does, head tucked against zitao’s neck and their limbs a big mess of tangled body parts and body heat and zitao’s so uncomfortable sleeping in jeans but he never, ever wants to move.

 

✧

 

a rude awakening, in the form of kim jongin.

“oi shitstick!” somebody yells, “i’m home!” and zitao can barely register anything beyond sehun’s resounding groan of complete and utter ‘fuck off’, pressed against zitao’s side.

“i’m sorry.” sehun says, in advance, and zitao wonders if vampires can see the future, because not a moment later, the door has been kicked down and light invades the once perfect room, then, a yell.

“dude wait til you hear what chanyeol did—“ zitao, unfortunately does not have the opportunity to find out what ‘chanyeol’ did, because unknown persons of asshole origin (most likely sehun’s roommate jongin, whom zitao has several snapchat screenshots of in compromising positions) realises what he has walked in on (nothing, shut the hell up) and sucks in a breath. “oh shit.”

“dude there wasn’t a sock on the door—“ jongin begins, and sehun hasn’t actually moved beyond whining loudly - obviously not a morning person - and curling further into the curve of zitao’s neck.

“jongin, you better shut the fuck up and go away.” he says, in the driest tone of voice zitao has ever had the pleasure of experiencing, and even being around sehun is jarring. he winces. the door closes as jongin slowly backs away. sehun doesn’t move, for a bit.

“sorry.” he says, again, and it’s the second time that zitao has ever heard him apologise. sehun, despite everything, does not seem like the kind to apologise. at the beginning, zitao may have thought he was too proud, or something, but sehun seems to do exactly what he wants to be doing. he shuffles over a little, and zitao misses how he fits.

“i hate sleeping in jeans.” he tells zitao, who, shares the same opinion of jean-sleeping.

“same.” is all zitao can think to say, when sehun hikes himself up on one elbow, and the pair of them come to terms with how small the fucking bed is. tiny. no room. their thighs are still touching, and zitao is nearly falling off of the thing.

strangely, he is not uncomfortable. well, he is. but sehun is still cold.

“sorry, about him.” sehun waves a hand in the general direction of jongin. the door is closed, but zitao can hear clanging. sehun drags a hand down his face, and zitao thinks he’s adorable in the morning. “he’s probably cooking rice. fuckin’ asshole.”

“it’s okay.” zitao assures smoothly, giving his limbs the solid command to _wake up! we got shit to do!_ his legs are not cooperative. _fuck you!_ they say. _you made us sleep in jeans!_

“nah, it’s not. he wasn’t meant to be back til monday. probably bailed on nap or something.” sehun says, sounding every bit as exhausted as he looks.  
“he’s a frat kid?” zitao wonders, because sehun certainly doesn’t look like a fratboy. seoul national university isn’t exactly cal tech either. there’s only two major american frats among them, and nu alpha phi is by association, a mess.

sehun wrinkles his face. “it’s complicated. he’s trying to fuck this chick in a sorority and he knows a guy who’s nu alpha but he hasn’t pledged yet but he brings back their jungle juice in these huge fucking empty bottles of spring water so, i don’t know. complicated.”

zitao laughs stuffily, resisting the inane urge to press his face into sehun’s shoulder. he remains still, though, because zitao’s not sure the rules regarding waking up in your hot astronomy partner’s bed. it’s…complicated.

“wow.” he says, and sehun winces.

“yeah. wow.” sehun glances back at the closed door and the sounds of jongin have dissipated. he frowns.

“he’s gonna be a dick. just a forewarning.” sehun grumbles, pulling himself up to roll gracefully off of the bed and onto the edge, toes brushing the floor. zitao follows his lead, and by association, is forced to deal with all the aches and strains dotted about his body after being slept on.

“eh.” zitao says, tired.

he pulls at his shoulder, wincing, as sehun stretches out his arms in a yawn. the blinds are still screwed closed, but there’s a tiny line of sunlight peeking out of the gap between them, and sehun takes great cause to ignore it.

“you want coffee?”

“tea?” zitao asks hopefully, in a small voice, and sehun looks like he’s thinking, for a while.

“i think we have some shit from tokyo in the pantry. i dunno. let’s pray.” sehun says, and he doesn’t sound so faraway so much as drenched in exhaustion. definitely not a morning person.

zitao beams at him. “whatever works.” he says, and sehun sends him a grateful look over his shoulder before standing up and hustling out of the door. zitao follows suit.

jongin has abandoned the kitchen, and is now sitting on the sofa, attempting to parallel park a tank on gran theft auto five. it’s an admirable endeavour, zitao will give him credit.

“i—“ he starts, and sehun rounds on him instantly.

“not a word out of you.” sehun snarls, and jongin’s mouth snaps shut. he eyes zitao with a curious intent, and zitao feels like a badly kept secret with the tiny wave he’s shot. he waves back to jongin, half-grinning at the image of sehun stumbling around the kitchen until he is sufficiently caffeine driven to deal with the situation at hand.

“i can’t find the fuckin’ tea.” sehun complains, before jongin turns his head to point at the pantry.

“top shelf.” he says airily, and sehun blinks back at the cupboard before making an ‘ah’ noise, and reaching up for a box of tokyo ryokucha that looks like it’s been there since before they moved in.

“thanks.” sehun says, before he scowls. “i thought i said not a word.”

zitao sniggers.

“can’t _fucking_ win.” jongin mutters, and sehun lodges a tea towel at his head.

“i heard that _dickbag._ ”

sehun sends him an apologetic look. a good morning, zitao thinks, if not informative.

 

✧

 

it’s different, after that.

not that zitao doesn’t mind. but. different. they’re tittering along the line of pseudo friends and guys that hold hands occasionally, seeing as they’ve shared a bed and there’s the constant ‘wow isn’t sehun such a nice boyfriend’ from jongin whenever zitao manages to see him. jongin usually ends up with a bruise underneath his left eye, because sehun can punch and the pair of them squabble like little girls.

still. sehun grabs his hand in the middle of a lecture about gravitational waves and he’s just “wow you have pretty fingers.” and zitao is kinda just sitting there, while sehun plays with his hands, the nearly bare lecture hall a kind of silent sentinel against whatever the hell they’re meant to be doing

zitao can’t make sense of what their professor is saying - something along the lines of mumble mumble physics mumble mumble pretty fingers mumble mumble sehun. oh wait.

boundaries continue to drop. sehun, head on zitao’s shoulder on the train home. sprawled out in his lap, underneath the stars, as sehun’s very delicate analysis of nuclear fusion goes in zitao’s ear and out the other. he didn’t think somebody could be hot, talking science; knowing yifan, he believed this to be true.

zitao is wrong. sehun is so hot when he talks science. like mad scientist hot.

it’s infuriating. because sehun’s the hot and cold kind of impulsive wherein zitao looks over at jongin when he’s crashing there and wonders if sehun crawls up into his side and juts his head in the bridge of jongin’s shoulder blades while they watch space documentaries and have their astronomy homework sprawled out all over the floor.

then again, that makes no sense, because jongin isn’t an astronomy major, he’s a dance major and he would never let sehun watch a science documentary when dance moms is on mnet.

still, zitao retains the urge to punch jongin in the face.

it’s fleeting and far in between and he thinks, with sehun animatedly drumming his fingers against zitao’s thigh, when did astronomy get this complicated?

 

✧

 

it’s not that sehun is zitao’s in any sense of the word, because that’s not true at all, despite popular belief, it’s moreso the fact that when lu han says he wants to finally meet the oh sehun that zitao will not shut up about, it’s the small niggling fact that once sehun is introduced to zitao’s roommates, he’s not zitao’s anymore. sehun’s just.

sehun.

and lu han is lu han.

he inhales.

“so when am i meeting your new boyfriend.” lu han says airily. zitao shoots him a look of disapproval over the table. head buried in his textbook, it’s been a long and dreary and surprisingly confusing eight weeks of astronomy project time, and final presentation is in next week.

lu han’s studying (not) for his media exam that he will (not) pass, and the university common room is something of a ‘nice place’ to be. the study hall is quiet, aside from zitao being yelled at by the t.a who hates him.

kim joonmyun is a scary man.

“it’s been like two months taozi—“ lu han whines. “i’ve seen him like once.”

he wants to keep sehun to himself. oddly. actually…it’s a rational choice. lu han comes in a steely number one on most embarrassing friends to have. yixing is a close second. only because he’d probably try to sell vampire-friendly weed to sehun and laugh about it later.

he needs better friends.

“shut up, ge. i have to get this done.” he huffs, pointing at the book. lu han reaches over the table, snatching up his phone like a snake, striking at its pray. even for a soccer player, lu han’s reflexes are unnatural. zitao expects as much from the devil incarnate.

“hey!” he yelps, “give that back!”

lu han sticks out a tongue, waving the now-unlocked iphone, and making a show of clicking on the kakao app.

“don’t you _dare_.” zitao says.

lu han does.

he’s typing at a rapid rate, and zitao knows exactly what he’s doing. launching himself out of the chair, he side steps the table to tackle lu han down onto the carpet, the pair of them squabbling over the phone as zitao tries to recover from having the wind knocked out of him with lu han’s knee on the descent.

lu han is tiny. zitao is long. they’re scaring freshman, zitao can see them from his peripheral, small and scared and retreating.

“give it back you _shit_ —“ he says, hand on lu han’s face.

“that’s no way to talk to an elder you brat—“ lu han mumbles, through zitao’s fingers. somehow, by a miracle, he presses send on the text and yelps in victory. zitao tries not to punch him in the throat, only snatch the phone away and let his chest heave.

to: sehunnie ❀  
_hELP IM AT THE STUDY HALL ITS AN EMERGENCY COME QUICK_

lu han looks so fucking smug. zitao is going to kill him.

“that’s not even my typing style.” he says, in despair. lu han shrugs, looking smug.

“he’ll come.” he promises, and even zitao knows it’s true.

he sucks in a breathe of disgust, and attempts to remedy the situation.

from: sehunnie ❀  
_what????_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_are u ok???_

to: sehunnie ❀  
_im fine!!!! that was my ge…being a dick_

to: sehunnie ❀  
_ignore it!!!!!_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_i wanna meet him_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_u met jongin_

to: sehunnie ❀  
_no pls_

from: sehunnie ❀  
_:-) b there in 5_

zitao wants to die.

“he’s not coming.” he tells lu han, airily, plastering a fake grin on his face. they’re still sitting on the floor, exhausted by their wrestle, and the freshman are nowhere to be seen. good. where freshman should remain. in hiding.

“sure.” lu han grins.

sehun arrives, five minutes later. just like he said. all black, snapback - ripped jeans. phone tucked into his pocket. he waves at zitao when he sees him and zitao is already making wild gestures with his hands to _turn back!!! turn back!!!! please!!!! go!!! get out of here!!!!!_

sehun just grins.

“you must be lu han.” he says, as soon as he wanders up to the table, and zitao thumps his head against the desk. he’s done. this is it. there’s no hope.

and then lu han, disgusting, loud, obnoxious lu han.

“and you must be taozi’s vampire boyfriend!” he says, and sehun looks at zitao briefly, wide-eyed, loosing all of his cool-kid aesthetic, before switching back to lu han.

“--wait what?”

and then lu han, again. zitao reaches forward to smack him, aggressively leaning closer and he doesn’t really care if it’s assault or that it’s the study hall common room and a possible roasting could occur. lu han knows too much and needs to shut his ugly mouth.

“he thinks you’re a vampire-“ lu han blurts, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. he is promptly attacked, by zitao, with the nearest book in sight. it’s an encyclopaedia of greek architecture, written in english, and it hits lu han on the shoulder.

“shut up!” he yells, and then lu han has retreated, grabbing his messenger bag and textbooks, still fucking cackling. “i never said that!”

“waitwaitwait-“ sehun says, a little wide-eyed. that spaced out look he gets when regarding somebody (usually everybody) with a little too much judgement, mixed in with his resting bitchface and something like disbelief. “-vampire? you thought i was a vampire? vampire... _boyfriend_?”

it’s that hold-up-let-me-get-this-straight look and zitao feels, absolutely and utterly, like an idiot. he has an entire hypothesis at home, half-written on the notes app of his phone and around the corners of yifan’s chem worksheets. still, The List is there, and as the scientist he isn’t, zitao proposes to do the logical thing and present evidence of his findings.

“listen…i never said the last bit.” he swallows, and sehun’s look is dry. “there was the garlic-“ he explains, first of all, before sehun, spluttering, interrupts him.

“not everybody likes garlic!”

“well, you always wear black—“

“that doesn’t mean anything; it’s my _aesthetic_!“

“you don’t wear silver—“

“because it’s cheap and platinum is more elite!”

“what about that time i wanted to go to the park but you said you hated the sun and we sat under that tree—“

“i _do_ hate the fucking sun! like every other moody-ass teenager!”

“your skin is cold!”

“i have poor circulation! sue me!”

“you don’t like waking up—“

“fuck mondays!”

“your music taste—“ zitao says, face flushed red because he’s grasping at straws now, and really, he’d have an entire hypothesis if they weren’t having this discussion in the middle of the study hall common room.

“jongin listens to death metal, not me you fucking idiot—“ sehun all but snaps and he doesn’t even look angry just vaguely exasperated and zitao thinks, what the hell, vampire or not sehun is still hot and it doesn’t matter if he tries to kill him or initiate him into his weird coven because it would probably be worth it because sehun is fucking hot. he leans forward, fingers tangled in the collar of sehun’s decidedly black ramones shirt and fuses their lips together, silencing any possible argument sehun could formulate.

sehun freezes for a second before he realises what’s happening and opens his eyes then promptly closes them, relaxing instantly underneath the carefully messy guidance of zitao and his lips.

sehun’s hands settle around zitao’s neck, while zitao fingers are still curled into his shirt, tugging him upupup out of his chair until they’re level on the edge of the table.

it’s the study hall and they’re making out across the debate tables and he thinks that joonmyun the t.a is going to kill them for this, seriously kill you the next time you wanna make out in my goddamn common room— but it’s kinda just easy, like this, to kiss sehun and forget that their astronomy presentation is tomorrow.

until.

“huang zitao i fucki—“

“oh shit.” zitao says, huffing, and sehun’s still there but their lips aren’t attached and it’s becoming kind of a problem because kissing sehun is good and joonmyun can suck it, honestly.

sehun blinks, and he looks like he’s laughing without having to laugh, gazing up at kim joonmyun; the tiniest and most insistent t.a they have with something akin to amusement.

“sehun? you too—god, tao if you’ve corrupted him-“ joonmyun splutters on the brink of hysterics and zitao thinks, great, another reason for the t.a to hate me, and then sehun’s giggling against his shoulder and it’s ridiculous.

“joonmyun-ssi i can explain.” he begins, sweetly. joonmyun rubs his eyes.

“i do not care for an explanation.” joonmyun grumbles, and he really does not care for an explanation. zitao purses his lips. “this is your seventh warning - no more making out in the common room.”

“fine.” zitao says, as brattishly as ever, curling his hand around sehun’s wrist to lead him away. “professor kim gave us the keys to the rooftop for our astronomy project so we’ll just go make out there in broad daylight and scare all the freshman.”

joonmyun very nearly combusts.

 

✧

 

“seventh warning. impressive,” sehun claims, legs dangling the edge of the railing by the rooftop greenhouse. it’s much nicer at night, of course, but the view of seoul in winter is not without merit. zitao closes his eyes. “just how many people do you make out with in the common room?”

it’s not worth lying about. “a lot.” zitao says, he is a junior after all, “joonmyun’s not as observant as he’d like to be.”  
sehun smiles against zitao’s lips, and they’re closecloseclose. the wind blows, but it’s not so strong. just a ticklish little breeze.

“oh really?” sehun says, their foreheads’ nearly touching. “and how many people do you drag to the rooftop to make out with? hmm?” zitao wants to lick his lips, but sehun’s given him no room to make his own decisions, at this point. he’s probably fine with that.

“not many,” zitao says, pointedly. “just you.”

and sehun laughs, full of teeth and zitao audibly swallows.

“don’t worry, i’m not going to _bite_ you.” sehun says, and zitao remembers that he’d never actually clarified whether it not he was of vampiric origin. he wants to swallow again, but he thinks that vampires can smell fear and sehun’s fingers curl a little in his sleeves and he laughs, again. “not unless you want me to.”

 _oh god._ zitao chews on the inside of his lip and tries not to scream. then sehun’s kissing him, hand come up to cup the side of his face with intent and zitao forgets.

 

✧

 

“i passed astro 101 bitch.” zitao tells yifan as he wanders through the door, arm full of textbooks. he doesn’t look impressed.

“i could pass astronomy in my sleep.” he says, barely stepping into the room and one of yixing’s pillows hits him in the face, knocking the glasses off of his nose. zitao revels in the fact that he is not the one to throw it.

sehun, their thighs pressed together, grin glinting in the light, catches zitao’s look with one of his own, and they low-high-five, at sehun’s good aim and their newfound defeat of yifan.

“great.” he says, trying to find his glasses. it’s a pitiful sight, really. “it was buy one get one free at the rude little shit store.”

another pillow, right between the eyes. yifan stumbles back, a bit, caught off guard, and this time; zitao is the one who throws it. through his stumbling, yifan blinks. even without his glasses, his eyesight isn’t bad enough that he doesn’t recognise sehun.

“isn’t that the vampire?” yifan says, and sehun laughs, face pressed into zitao’s shoulder. hand on zitao’s thigh now, the fingers clench, and sehun keeps laughing. zitao glares.

“don’t be rude.” he says, and sehun guffaws.

“you called me a vampire first.” sehun claims, and zitao spins a little to stare at him, pointedly.

“it was a scientific miscalculation.” zitao defends. yifan finally finds his glasses, and he rolls his eyes.

“science my _ass._ ” he says, under his breath, and the comment is unacknowledged, for various reasons.

sehun seems satisfied, for now, at being a scientific miscalculation. zitao doesn’t mind what he is, really. maybe yixing was right, after all, but then again, it’s yixing.

sehun tucks his head underneath zitao’s chin, and it’s quiet like that, for a bit. like seoul at night, stargazing with the intention of something zitao’s brain is incapable of understanding. quiet.

at least until lu han gets back, and zitao is finally forced to commit the homicide he’s always dreamed of.

**Author's Note:**

> • wow ok so i love taohun i say this every time i post a new pairing but i Really, Really love taohun???   
>  • we never find out if sehun is actually…a vampire ;;;;; who knows?? lmao   
>  • zitao is Me: A Summary   
>  • lu han is a Little Shit: A Summary   
>  • yixing is Hannah: A Summary   
>  • the science in this….was supplied by a close friend who attempted to explain planetary motion to me but me…an idiot…could do nothing but nod along attentively   
>  • i hope u enjoyed this i love u have a good day ilu


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